


Twas The Night Before Christmas - A Fox's Tale

by tebralit



Category: Humor - Fandom, Nursery Rhymes & Songs
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 00:05:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8688841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tebralit/pseuds/tebralit
Summary: Light hearted rhyme





	

‘T was the night before Christmas, when all through the truck,  
Not a chicken was stirring, in a box they were stuck.  
The truck, was full loaded, right up to the brim,  
With hens that were sorted, fat, medium and thin.

The road it was twisty, in the truck’s glaring light,  
And the fox had a plan, that fateful bright night.  
His scheme was in motion—as were the hens,  
For earlier that day, he’d turned up at their pens.

And through the mesh wire he told them within,  
Of his bold rescue plan, through his sly foxy grin  
“Please, don’t be afraid alarmed, I’m here as a friend,  
For if you’ll not listen, in a stew you will end”

The chickens all blinked, but after a while,  
Drew closer to listen to his sweet talk and guile.  
He said, they’d be caged, later that day,  
Packed on a truck, and be ferried away.

He said as they journeyed to that coop in the sky,  
Not to be worried, for help was nearby,   
And when the truck swerved, at a bend in the road,  
To stand on one leg and tip over the load.

Later that night, in the silvery moon’s glow,  
The fox took his place along the hedgerow,  
A sound in the distance filled him with glee,  
At the thought of the feast that soon was to be.

When the lights from the truck came over the hill,  
His heart skipped a beat, he could scarcely stand still.  
So now as he waited, and the time, it drew near,  
He readied himself, and crouched with a leer.

From the top of the hill, his quarry rolled down,  
To that bend on the road, so far from town,  
He sprang to his task, and stared wide eyed and bright,  
At the driver, who swerved when the fox gave him fright.

The chickens on cue, all played their parts,  
And stood on one leg, bless all their hearts.  
The truck how it tottered, flipped on one side,  
And chickens and boxes were spread far and wide,

The fox and his friends all circled in tight,  
Their moment had come, they howled with delight.  
They sprang to their task and as one they all cried,  
It’s chicken tonight, boiled, basted or fried  
—Anomaly Journals


End file.
